


To Bed A Harp

by MathConcepts



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: A Lot of Plot, Anal Fingering, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, But Feanor has a heart, Canon Divergence, Conspiracy, Dickish elves, Dubcon Cuddling, Dubcon Kissing, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Extremely Dubious Consent, Family Problems, Feanor being a total you know what, Fingolfin is not going to be happy, Fingon is shy, Fingon is small and scared, Fingon loves Maedhros, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Kidnapping, Loss of Virginity, Lots of Dubious, Lots of sex at the beginning, Love, M/M, Maedhros does not think he raped Fingon so let's be clear about that, Maedhros is going to eat him, Maedhros is not nice to Fingon, Maedhros is tall and knows what he wants, Maedhros loves Fingon, Maglor loves kidnapping, Mildly Dubious Consent, Naked Cuddling, No plot until about five chapters of sexytime, Politics, Porn With Plot, Pssst it's Fingon, Ransom, So many family problems, Spanking, Suitor for Fingon, plot plot plot, talk of marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-08-23 00:04:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16608008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathConcepts/pseuds/MathConcepts
Summary: Maedhros gives in to his overwhelming desire for Fingon one day, and spends many days after stripping away his lovely cousin's innocence.Fingon isn't as enthusiastic about Maedhros's physical desire for him as Maedhros is, but he learns quickly enough that pleasing his cousin is the best way to keep them both happy.Though, deep down, Fingon yearns for Maedhros's touch, he does not intended to reveal his own desire easily.Political intrigue and family prejudice seek to separate them, and a suitor comes seeking Fingon's hand, pushing Maedhros and Fingon even closer together.Though their respective families do not know of their relationship, Fingon and Maedhros are sucked into a dangerous whirlpool once the truth is known.





	1. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fingon won't stop biting his lip, and Maedhros finally snaps. 
> 
> So mostly sex, (or more accurately blowjobs) in this chapter, and no plot, (yet)
> 
>  
> 
> Now, this is important; this story may not be everyone's cup of tea. Everyone in this fic not their usual selves. Maedhros in this fic is a hedonist and sadist, with a libido twice the size of Tantiquetil, and Fingon is younger, inexperienced, and scared of sex, and a happy, nor very consensual sex life this does not make. 
> 
> Since I forgot to include it in the summary or at all, for a while - This was requested by a person who won't be named, under the prompts Dark! Maedhros, Sadism, Sex, and Politics. I did the best I could. I live to serve, really. 
> 
>  
> 
> Don't read, if don't like.

Maedhros could not name what had over come him at that moment in time,  _lust, desire, arousal,_ these words all presented themselves, and were found lacking.

 

This urge was something more heated, more primal, something that flamed within him, an echo of his progenitor's spirit. 

This day, Maedhros had went in secret to the house of Fingolfin, to share the time with his dearly beloved cousin. They sat among the sky blue drapery of Fingon's room, abiding mostly in silence, save for when Fingon's hands would flit across his harp, or his voice would raise in sweet song.

 

Maedhros adored nothing more then to hear the work of his cousin's hands and lips, and so he had spent many an hour such as this.  
  
Feanor highly suspected the location wherein his eldest son spent most of his waking time was none other than his half brother's palace, but there was naught he could do but forbid Maedhros from giving the palace his presence, an edict which Maedhros had chosen to disregard.  
  
  
Fingon had come to the end of his song, the harp in his hands trilling out a final note in tandem with his voice. Maedhros smiled his praise, and Fingon's answering smile warmed the very room.

 

Fingon's teeth dragged daintily across his lower lip as his smile was squirreled back into the corners of his mouth, and heat bloomed sudden in Maedhros's belly at the action. 

 

"Did the song please you, cousin?" Fingon questioned, his slim fingers curling just so about the frame of the harp that was cradled in his lap, his face innocent and anticipating.

 

The fire lit in Maedhros's belly blazed higher, his eyes not leaving Fingon's face. A dusting of color spread across Fingon's face at Maedhros's intense gaze.

"Maitimo?" Fingon queried, his teeth prodding at his bottom lip, a fidget. 

Maedhros's breath came shallow and fast, the gathering of a wind before the gust of a storm.

Fingon's teeth pressed down, catching flesh, and Maedhros's resolve broke. Leaning forward from the bosom of his chair, Maedhros reached out, seizing the front of Fingon's tunic, and yanked his cousin out of his own chair, and nigh onto his lap.

 

Fingon stumbled, his harp falling from his hands, brows closing together at the unmitigated action, tonuge wetting lips in preparation to speak. One hand pressed against Maedhros's chest, preventing himself from being fully seated on his cousin's thighs.

Maedhros's fingers left their grasp on Fingon's tunic, and took one of his dark plaits of hair. Twisting the long braid between his fingers, Maedhros admired how the gold threads wound through the plait glinted.

Distracted by Fingon's glittering braid, Maedhros was returned to his purpose by the sweet voice of Fingon.

 

"Maitimo...Maitimo.."

Fingon's brows were furrowed, his expression worried. Maedhros's right hand went to the crown of Fingon's head, clutching the hair there. This drew a sharp gasp from Fingon, who doubtless, felt pain from Maedhros's hold.   
  
  
"Did the song displease you, cousin?" Fingon asked, slowly endeavoring to move himself from the proximity of Maedhros's body. Maedhros held him fast by the hair, eyes raking over Fingon's form. 

 

"The song pleased me, Finno." Maedhros replied, his left hand moving between the layers of Fingon's blue and silver garments, so smoothly, Fingon noticed them not. "But, I would have you do something other with your mouth."

 

Fingon shifted, brows curving deeper in confusion. Maedhros's fingers brushed his skin as they pervaded the layers of cloth, and Fingon flung himself back, only to be dragged forward anew, and pressured onto Maedhros's lap by his hand in his hair.

"Maitimo, let me go!" Fingon cried, alarm budding within him as he was settled atop Maedhros's thighs, his legs slipping to either side of his cousin's waist.

Maedhros took no heed of his words, his hand unwound the silver sash about Fingon's waist, letting his tunic spill open. Fingon clutched the fabric, folding his hands over his chest, concealing his fair skin from Maedhros's gaze. 

Maedhros's eyes darkened in displeasure at the sight denied him.

 

"Findekano, _don't."_ he growled, yanking upon Fingon's hair. Fingon cried out, and released the folds of his tunic, baring his skin. Maedhros hummed low in his throat, a low growl of appreciation upon glimpsing Fingon's exposed chest.

 

Fingon's breath was taken in short, harried gasps, his eyes blown wide and focused on Maedhros in startled fear. What in Eru's name had come over his cousin?

Maedhros's arousal swelled from his belly, at Fingon's expression. Fear covered his cousin's face, yet Fingon's eyes were riveted on Maedhros, and Maedhros alone. 

Maedhros's arousal grew, tenting the front of his trousers. Fingon's eyes remained upon his, and did not see the evidence of his lust.

Maedhros's eyes left Fingon's, though loath he was to tear his gaze away, and traveled down Fingon's chest, taking in the sight of skin, smooth and exposed, belly swelling and withdrawing in fearful breaths, the peaks of his nipples pale and soft.

Maedhros's head came forward, tonuge darting out to flick over one of the pale little peaks. It hardened beneath his tonuge, a thrilling sensation.

 

Maedhros's teeth grazed the peak next, then clamped down upon it, bringing forth a cry of pain from Fingon. Maedhros cared not for the pain, the sound of Fingon's voice crying out so in a different form of song was all that mattered.

Fingon's hands pushed at his shoulders, an endeavor to freedom. Maedhros bit upon the peak, a warning to his cousin, to desist his actions.  
  
  
  
Fingon indeed ceased, a short scream falling from his lips.

  
"Maitimo, Maitimo, please! I am sorry!" Fingon wailed, feeling moisture drip from the wounded peak of his nipple. Maedhros's ministrations also ceased, his eyes returning to  his cousin's. 

 

"Sorry?" Maedhros echoed, licking red droplets from his lips.

 

"I have done something to cause these actions you do," Fingon murmured, teeth nibbling at his lower lip. "I ask forgiveness for my folly."

 

Maedhros's eyes tracked Fingon's lips.  
  
  
"You have indeed committed offense against me, Finno." Maedhros began. "You have enthralled me, and you should make reparation upon your knees."

 

Fingon did not understand his cousin's words, yet, as the hand in his hair loosened, he took himself up from Maedhros's lap, and sank to his knees before Maedhros, trusting and complacent.

   
Fingon's new position brought him level with Maedhros's arousal, and he looked up at his cousin, more fear, and now, a sliver of understanding present in his gaze. 

 

  
"Maitimo..."

 

But, the hand in his hair had locked tight, and he was dragged between Maedhros's parting legs.  
  
  
The other of Maedhros's hands made short work of the laces of his trousers, and his arousal sprung forth.  Fingon closed his eyes tightly, and leaned away, Maedhros growled low in his throat at the action.  
  
  
" _Finno."_

Fingon swallowed convulsively, the shortened version of his name sounding so different to his ears, when spoken in the husky, yet displeased tone Maedhros now commandeered.

 

Fingon opened his eyes, dark lashes fluttering. His cousin's arousal was veined and large, liquid beading at its tip. Fingon's teeth worried his lip yet again, and his eyes rose to Maedhros's, seeking instruction.

Maedhros's hand moved from the crown of Fingon's head, to its base, grasping a fistful of Fingon's hair, plaits of black and gold.  
  
Maedhros's other hand descended, its fingers alighting upon Fingon's lips, and acquainting themselves with their surface. Maedhros's cock jolted at the touch of the soft, thin skin of Fingon's lips. 

 

"Open your mouth." Maedhros rasped. Fingon did not comply immediately, and Maedhros pulled ungently upon his hair. Fingon gasped, his lips parting, mouth falling open to release the pain.  
  
  
  
Taking the presented opportunity, Maedhros held Fingon's head rigid by the grasp upon his hair, pulling Fingon's head inward as he shifted his hips forward, sheathing his arousal in Fingon's mouth.  
  
  
Fingon gasped again, brokenly, mouth constricting about the invading member.

A moan rose from Maedhros's throat, his head falling back, the soft, wet heat of his cousin's mouth a bliss that was divine to him. Fingon's tonuge lapped hesitantly at his arousal, a ploy to remove it. 

 

Maedhros canted his hips forward, eager to gain more pleasure.

   
"Finno, Finno," he moaned, "Move."

Fingon's eyes flooded, his lashes lowering in denial. A grating sound left Maedhros's lips, an anger at being rebuffed.

"Findekano, _now."_ Maedhros ground out. 

And Fingon began to move, unsurely, his movements hampered by fright. His cheeks hollowed around Maedhros's cock, tonuge sliding wither it would, mapping out the veins of Maedhros's length.   
  
  
Down, down, between Fingon's thighs, budded a bloom of heat, a twisting feeling in his belly, a surge of wrong enjoyment.  

Spurred by impatience, despite the wondrous sensations Fingon's hesitant ministrations provided, Maedhros pulled his cousin's head forward, then shoved it back, sliding Fingon's head to and fro along his length. 

Fingon took to Maedhros's wants quickly, and soon, Maedhros was treated to the pleasurable sight and feel of his cousin's head bobbing betwixt his spread thighs.

Aching to relive some of the tension upon the plaits of his hair held fast by Maedhros, Fingon placed his hands upon Maedhros's thighs, fingers curving over the taught flesh, for balance.  
  
  
Maedhros caressed Fingon's cheek, approval relayed through the touch. The feel of Maedhros's fingers burned against Fingon's skin, it was a touch Fingon had felt countless times before, a touch of praise, of affection.

   
"When I am king, you will do this upon my orders, every day." Maedhros fantasized aloud. Heat rushed to Fingon's cheeks, and to hide the color blooming, he bowed his head low between Maedhros's thighs, a mistake, as Maedhros's arousal slipped unto his throat.

Fingon gagged, as his throat was clogged, whereas Maedhros groaned out as his arousal was engulfed. Fingon's hands clenched around Maedhros's thighs, and he moved back, though it was too late.

  
Maedhros climaxed, his seed dribbling out into the receptacle of his cousin's mouth. 

"Finno." he panted, feeling Fingon's mouth leave his cock. The next moment, realizing Fingon's intent, Maedhros thrust his hand over Fingon's mouth, prevent Fingon from expelling the seed that pooled there.   
  
  
"Swallow, Finno." Maedhros purred.

Fingon swallowed as he was told, feeling the thick liquid slide down to his belly, though fat droplets and sticky strands of it still remained in his mouth, and over his lips.

The liquid that had gathered in Fingon's eyes overflowed, and he bowed forward to conceal it, folding into the curve of Maedhros's belly, and there he wept softly. 

Maedhros released his cousin's hair, letting the braids slip through his fingers. Fingon wailed against him, shoulders shaking.  
  
Grasping the thin, trembling shoulders, Maedhros drew Fingon up, pulling Fingon back atop his thighs, and tucking him against his torso, taking the corner of Fingon's loosened tunic, Maedhros wiped the seed from Fingon's mouth with Fingon's own tunic, then brushed his lips tenderly against his cousin's.  
  
  
"You are forgiven for your offense." Maedhros murmured, his fingers brushing over the bruised peak of Fingon's nipple.

"Thank you, Maitimo..." Fingon sobbed, yet he returned the pressure Maedhros put again upon his lips.

 

Maedhros held him close, not bothering to lace his trousers, sated and comfortable with the weight of Fingon across him.  
  
  
The heat in Fingon's belly had faded nigh away, yet a fleeting amount still lay therein, allowing Fingon to tentatively rest his hand upon Maedhros's chest, and lay his face in the crook of his cousin's neck, his open tunic he dared not fasten, for fear of Maedhros's displeasure. 

   
Whatever Maedhros had done to him, it pleased Maedhros greatly. And Fingon aimed to please his cousin at every opportunity available. He so treasured Maedhros's praise and his affection.   
  
  
They sat so, the harp forgotten upon the floor, neither speaking, only holding vigil until the other slept.

  
  
  
 

 

 


	2. The Virgin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros and Fingon do the do.
> 
> The sex is (inspired?) from a sex scene in the movie Basic Instinct. 
> 
>  
> 
> Sex, and no plot, (yet) in this chapter.

Fingon' fingers traveled over the strings of his harp, plucking a random tune from them. It had been three phases of the Lights since Fingon had seen Maedhros, since Fingon had been on his knees before him.  
  
  
Fingon's tonuge ran over his lips, still feeling a phantom pressure upon them, the weight of Maedhros's fingers...or something yet more lengthy. Color spread across his cheeks at the memory of Maedhros's cock, it's girth and taste. A weight settled low in his belly, heat bubbling upward.  
  
  
  
Fingers falling from the harp, Fingon set the treasured instrument aside upon a carved desk, and sank down upon his bed, one slim hand pressing against his lower belly, a frantic ploy to rid himself of the arousal that stirred at the memory of Maedhros's illicit deed.  
  
  
He sat as such for sometime, until a knock upon the door of his chambers broke his reverie. 

"Enter." Fingon called out, standing and adjusting to minuscule detail the folds of his customary sky blue tunic and glimmering silver sash. It might be that one of his siblings sought him, or his father or mother, and he wished to be presentable. 

But, it was none of these.  
  
  
Maedhros entered, his eyes seeking Fingon even before he passed the threshold. Fingon's eyes widened at his cousin came forward, and he stepped back, retreating as Maedhros advanced.

 

Maedhros let the doors of Fingon's chamber shut behind him, and went to his cousin.

"Finno." he greeted pleasantly. Fingon cast his eyes down.

"Maitimo." he replied, staring at the tips of his boots, loose strands of his hair curling about his face as it was bowed, framing it. A low laugh of amusement bubbled from Maedhros's throat, at Fingon's shyness, and he looked to the harp that stood on the carved desk nearby.

"Have you another song for me, Finno?" Maedhros questioned.

"No, I have not yet composed another." Fingon admitted. 

 

Maedhros's crimson brows drew in, a sign of light annoyance.

"I do prefer that you sing upon my visits." Maedhros informed his cousin.   
  
  
"I am sorry, Maitimo." Fingon murmured, daring to meet his cousin's eyes. And indeed, he was sorry, an easy way to win much of Maedhros's coveted praise was to present him with a melody of his making, however simple.

"Never you mind it." Maedhros answered, easing Fingon's spirit. Perhaps Maedhros would  be content to sit and talk with him, as they often did. But Maedhros's next words broke this budding hope.

 

"I possess other ways to make you sing, Finno."

 

Fingon's retreat began anew rapidly, he backed steadily away from his cousin, though his eyes remained upon Maedhros.

Maedhros regarded him in a fond amusement for a time, before his patience grew lackluster. 

"Finno." he began in a light, cheerful mien, "Come here."

 

  
"Maitimo, please..." Fingon said, panic birthing in his chest. 

  
"Do not cause me to tell you again, Finno." Maedhros retorted in a darkening tone. Panic gave way to fear at Maedhros's voice, and Fingon reluctantly came forward to his cousin.   
  
Maedhros held his hands out, palms upturned, a clear invitation. Brow furrowing in confusion, Fingon raised his own hands, and placed them within Maedhros's.

Maedhros smiled, a gentle and handsome curve of his lips. Fingon gave an answering smile, his fear assuaged at the clear affection in his cousin' eyes. Yet, Maedhros's hands turned cruel the next moment, his hands encircling Fingon's wrists in a crushing grip, his tall, strong body backing Fingon's slimmer one against the wall of his chambers.

 

Fingon struggled, attempting to slip out of his cousin's grasp. Maedhros thwarted his actions by shoving his knee between Fingon's legs, and holding Fingon's slim wrists against the wall with great force. 

Fingon cried out, a wail of fear rather than pain. Maedhros's lips pressed onto his, muffling his cry. Maedhros's kiss was harsh and insistent, tasting and taking the sweetness of Fingon's lips, the taint of rich wine and berries Fingon had consumed earlier. 

His struggles rendered null by Maedhros's strength, Fingon let himself fall pliant, allowing Maedhros to do what he willed, in hopes he would complete his deed more quickly.

Maedhros however, kept strong his siege upon Fingon's mouth, his tonuge nudging against Fingon's lips, in search of an opening.  
  
  
Out of curiosity stemming from the shreds of arousal that still dwelt in in his belly, Fingon allowed his lips to part, giving entrance to Maedhros's tonuge, which swept about his mouth, pushing, prodding, and withdrawing only when Fingon began to shake from want of air.   
  
  
As Fingon drew in gasping breaths, Maedhros's lips journeyed to the fine ridge of his cousin's cheekbone, then his ear, then slid down his neck, providing sensation enough to taint Fingon's gasps with reluctant pleasure.

 

Focusing only on the pressure of his cousin's lips against the skin of his throat, Fingon heeded not that his hands had been released, and realized not the implications of their freedom, until his tunic and sash was torn from his torso.

  
Maedhros dropped the silken shreds upon Fingon's boots, his cock twitching in his trousers at Fingon's fearful inhalation. Maedhros had been hard in his trousers before he came ere to Fingon's chambers, though his long robe hid it well.  
  
  
Maedhros's hand came to Fingon's hips, then plucked at the laces of his cousin's trousers, undoing them in ease.  
  
  
"Maitimo, no!" Fingon cried out, as his trousers loosened about his hips.  Maedhros's fingers dug into flesh and cloth at Fingon's words.  
  
  
"You deny me, Findekano?" Maedhros snarled, upset at Fingon's outright objection.

 

Fingon's teeth stabbed at his lip, unsure in the face of his cousin's budding anger.  
  
  
He did not want this touch, the actions he knew were to come from Maedhros's hands and cock, but yet somehow, he did want them.

  
"I...I, please, Maitimo...this thing you wish to do, I have never done...I do not wish to disappoint you..." Fingon began, head lowering, color suffusing his cheeks at the admission.  
  
  
His words had opposite the effect he had hoped them to have. Something foreign, something predatory, bled into Maedhros's eyes.

"You have never truly done such?" Maedhros queried, his voice suddenly husky.

Fingon answered with a shake of his head, plaits swinging over his shoulders.  A growl broke from Maedhros's throat, and suddenly, savagely, he tore Fingon from the wall, dragging him over to the blue draped bed that stood in the chamber, shoving Fingon atop it, upon his belly.   
  
  
Fingon trembled, his bare back heaving as Maedhros pressed against the back of his slender legs, coaxing his trousers from his hips, to pool instead around the tops of his boots.  
  
  
Now fully exposed to the eyes of his cousin, Fingon cradled his head within his hands, to conceal the flood of emotions that had took residence upon his face.

Maedhros's hand stroked gently down the curve of Fingon's spine, halting at the dip where the spine ended, his fingers drumming against the skin there.  
  
  
Fingon held himself rigid, a sickly, heavy feeling mixing with the heat that had risen despite his misgivings, hanging low in his belly, a barest arousal trapped between his thighs and the coverlets of his bed.  
  
  
Maedhros's fingers sank between the mounds of flesh that curved beyond the dip of Fingon's spine, and Fingon jolted, fear mounting at the unfamiliar, invasive touch.

"Maitimo..."  he started.  Maedhros's fingers brushed his entrance, and Fingon fell silent, teeth drawing blood from his lip as he strove to be still, lest his cousin be moved to a more destructive action.

  
With one hand, Maedhros retrieved a small glass bottle from the inside of his robe, an oil that had been placed there in preparation for an occasion as the one spread before him. He lifted the cork from the bottle's thin neck with his thumb, and let the tiny bottle's contents spill out upon his fingers wedged betwixt Fingon's flesh.   
  
  
Once the slick of the oil coated his fingers, Maedhros pushed them down, breaking through the tight ring of muscle of Fingon's entrance.

Fingon's loud and uncontrollable sob of pain floated as music to Maedhros's ears. Whether his cousin wanted it or no, he was indeed  _feeling_ Maedhros's touch.   
  
  
His fingers remained in his cousin, delving deeper, stretching and slicking Fingon's tight channel. Fingon sobbed into his hands, pain circling within his lower body, Maedhros's fingers thick and wrong within him. 

 

This continued for some time, Maedhros's fingers never leaving Fingon's body, the sound of oil being pressed into unyielding flesh fueling his cock into full arousal.   
  
  
Fingon's tear laden gasp as Maedhros withdrew his fingers sent the smouldering embers of heat in Maedhros's belly into a full blaze, a roaring fire driving him to take, to conquer.

 

He divested himself of his robe, swiftly pulling undone the laces that held his cock within his trousers.

Fingon heard the rustling cloth, and knew what it heralded.   
  
  
"Maitimo, Maitimo..." he sobbed, praying that his cousin would heed his words before it was too late. "If you mean to do this thing...let me look upon your face, can you not grant me that?"

Maedhros indeed heard, and heeded Fingon's plea. With a tenderness that jarred, he turned Fingon upon his back, eyes roving over Fingon's hair, splayed across the pillows, then looking upon Fingon's tear stained face. 

Fingon closed his eyes, not bearing to look in kind upon his cousin.

Maedhros's hands slid from Fingon's shoulders to his thighs, taking Fingon's legs and placing them about his waist, the tip of his arousal finding lodging at Fingon's entrance.

 

"Look at me, Finno." Maedhros said, tone evoking every amount of authority he possessed.     

Fingon's eyes opened, tears beading from them, bottom lip trembling, teeth coming down upon it to clamp it still.  
  
  
And Maedhros plunged into him, without warning, the bounds of his limitations surpassed. Fingon screamed out, a long note of pain. Maedhros's lips descended, smothering Fingon's own lips and torso with biting kisses, while his brutally timed thrusts, not gentle from the start, racked Fingon's body below.   
  
Fingon's tight channel pressured Maedhros's cock, a source of great pleasure for Maedhros.

"Findekano, you're  _tight."_ he panted out, causing the redness of shame to fill Fingon's cheeks. Fingon writhed under his cousin's weight, gasping and still sobbing as he was impaled again and again.   
  
  
However, one of Maedhros's thrusts angled just so, and Fingon screamed out again, though, it was cry of pleasure.   
  
  
Fingon's slim arms wound about Maedhros's shoulders, accepting the pain, the pleasure, the biting kisses, the burning stretch of his channel. 

"Maitimo! Maitimo!" he cried out in a moment of abandon, as Maedhros's cock shoved deep within him, his fingers clawing into Maedhros's back.   
  
  
The cry of his name sent Maedhros tipping over the edge of pleasure, seed spurting fast into his cousin, hips ceasing to move.

Fingon lay still, concentrating only upon the hot wash of liquid that coated his aching channel, providing a balm against the pain. His legs fell from around Maedhros's waist, and slowly, Maedhros eased his cock from his cousin, eyes tracking his seed as it dribbled forth from Fingon's entrance.  
  
  
Feeling the thick liquid run down his thighs, Fingon began to sob anew. Maedhros pressed a kiss upon Fingon's quivering lips as he lay beside his cousin, and Fingon returned the action, molding against Maedhros, searching for comfort from the one who had caused his tears. 

Maedhros's hand caressed his back, touch gentle now that the fire in his belly roared not. But Fingon's tears did not cease.   
  
  
"Findekano, what ails you?" Maedhros requested. There was much that ailed Fingon, but one matter imposed upon his mind.

 

"My father..." Fingon began haltingly. "Maitimo, if he discovers what you have done..."

   
"I will fight him if he raises objection." Maedhros declared. The answer pleased not Fingon, but he had no wish to incur more of his cousin's attention at the moment, the evidence of Maedhros's attention now staining his thighs. 

He let his eyes close, drifting away from his sticky and sore body into sleep, while beside him, Maedhros did as such.

 

 

 

 

  
     

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, feedback equals more chapters. I'll be be very grateful for any feedback.


	3. The Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Filler chapter.

 Maedhros walked about the green, lush grass carpeting the forest floor, with Fingon at his side, admiring the way light filtered through the trees, bathing Fingon's pure skin in a lovely glow.  
  
  
This was the first time that Fingon had agreed to walk with him, since Maedhros had taken his innocence, since that time, Fingon had seemed reluctant to be alone with him, and Maedhros liked that not.   

  
His cousin's endearing shyness was one matter, to spurn his company on unsuitable grounds was another. Lacing his arm around Fingon's waist, Maedhros pulled Fingon against his side, lips brushing the tip of an ear that peaked from beneath Fingon's thick plaits.      
  
  
Fingon shied away at the touch, breaking from his cousin's hold.  
  
  
"Maitimo, do not." Fingon chided, walking quickly ahead.  
  
  
Maedhros regarded his cousin's retreating back in mounting irritation. 

"Finno," he called after his cousin, "Do not act this way."  
  
  
  
"Leave me be!" Fingon cried.

Maedhros's lips quirked in a crooked smile, masking his irritation, and he ran his cousin's side.

"Finno, I wish to be close to you." he admitted, taking hold of his cousin's wrist.  
  
  
Fingon endeavored to pull away, fear in his eyes.   
  
  
"Maitimo, please, please, let me be..." he entreated. 

 

"You agreed to walk with me!" Maedhros snapped, "Why do you now spurn me?"  
  
  
  
"You, you, have made me feel wary of your actions..." Fingon answered, teeth grinding at his lip, his eyes not meeting Maedhros's.

The admission sent anger flaring high in Maedhros, and he swung Fingon about by the grasp upon his arm, shoving Fingon against the trunk of a large tree, and smothering his cousin's body with his own.

  
"I desire you, Finno." Maedhros said, in tones heavy with anger and rising arousal. "You have no need to be wary of my actions, I shall not harm you, if you please me."  
  
  
"You took from me a thing which I was not yet willing to give!" cried Fingon.

 

"Our love made it willing and right for me to take such a thing." Maedhros retorted, a sudden thought coming to him, inflaming his eyes with jealousy.  "Unless there is another you had wished to give it to, it was mine to take. Is there another, sweet cousin?" 

Fingon's eyes went wide, fear now filling them completely, tears dribbling from them at the implication's of his cousin's words.

 

"No, no!" he sobbed. "Maitimo, you are the one, the only one I love so!"

Anger left Maedhros's eyes at the tearful reply, and he tenderly pressed his lips to Fingon's. Fingon's lips pressed back against his, a hesitant, but pleasing response. 

 

Fingon relaxed, the warmth of Maedhros's body and the pressure of his lips so gently upon his was a pleasant thing. Though, it was indeed Maedhros, and so the comfort did not last.  
  
  
Maedhros's knee came between his legs, his hands coming to his waist and undoing the laces of his trousers, then hands roaming over the skin revealed.

"Maitimo..." Fingon groaned, turning his head away from his cousin's lips. "Don't."

_"Findekano."_

"Please! I still hurt so! And we are here, in the woods." Fingon begged. 

"Tyelkormo does not mind if it be in the woods or no." Maedhros mused.

  
"You are not him." stated Fingon petulantly.

Maedhros lips curved upward, and he pressed them to Fingon's again, teeth biting at Fingon's pouting lips.  
  
Fingon's hands shoved against his chest, with enough force to send him back a pace. Maedhros hissed at the act of outright rebellion, and he seized Fingon's arms, pulling Fingon down with him as he seated himself with his back to the tree's trunk.   
  
  
  
  
  
He yanked Fingon down, across his lap, on his belly. Fingon wriggled there in confusion for a moment, before attempting to rise. Maedhros's hand rested on his back, preventing such.

 

"You can hardly take me here, in this position." Fingon informed his cousin, marveling at his own words.  
  
  
Maedhros whistled at Fingon's words, surprised at his cousin's brazenness. 

"You are right, Finno." agreed Maedhros. "But, I can do other things." Fingon's trousers had been unlaced, so it was with no great trouble that Maedhros was able to ease them down Fingon's hips and thighs, baring rounded mounds of flesh.

 

"Maitimo..." Fingon began, only to let his words trail off into a sharp cry as Maedhros's hand descended and connected with flesh. Maedhros's intent became clear, he intended to administer a punishment used upon children.

Heat raced to Fingon's belly, and color to his cheeks. It was a humiliating prospect, to be punished so, yet it stirred warmth between his hips. Maedhros's hand rose and descended again, and again, each stinging blow falling where the last had.

Fingon's teeth pressured his lip severely, keeping him from crying out. His back arched, yet was held down by Maedhros's restraining hand.   
  
  
Maedhros retained a steady pace, each blow heaping sharp, spreading pain upon the reddening flesh. Fingon's hands grasped the at the grass, cries of pain threatening to break free as his hips began to jerk with each blow.

Maedhros grew steadily more frustrated at Fingon's silence, he would not in truth take Fingon if Fingon truly wanted it not, but he had thought at least to hear Fingon's voice crying out, and Fingon was refusing him even that.      


Maedhros armed his next blow with more force than the last, and was rewarded with a high pitched cry from Fingon. Having discovered what was needed, he gave each forthcoming blow a heady amount of force, calling sharp gasps and delicate sounds of pain from his cousin's mouth.

Fingon writhed on his cousin's lap, hands tearing grass from the forest floor, his face aflame with humiliation, nearly sobbing at the painful sensations. Yet, he made no move to halt Maedhros's proceedings.  
  
Though, when a blow of exceeding force fell upon his now crimson skin, he wailed loudly. 

"Maitimo! Maitimo...please!" he sobbed out, desperate for a cessation of the pain.   

  
"Has a lesson been learned, Finno?" Maedhros queried, as his hand fell again.

"Yes, Maitimo...I will not treat you as I did now again."  Fingon gasped.

"I am pleased to hear such, Finno." Maedhros said, his hand now stroking over the mounds of flesh, with a gentler touch soothing the pain he had administered, his hand leaving Fingon's back.

Fingon rose to his knees, tears upon his face, color high on his cheekbones, trousers hanging low on his thighs, covering nothing under his waist.

 

Maedhros's hand went to the back of Fingon's neck, pulling him in for a kiss, while his other hand went between his cousin's thighs, and lingered there for a short time, sliding over the smooth skin, before withdrawing and tugging Fingon's trousers up.

Fingon made certain to keep his tunic's folds falling over the bud of his arousal, before easing himself upon Maedhros's lap, pain shooting up his hips from their combined  places in his lower body, though he heeded it not, only wishing to feel his cousin's arms after such a punishment. 

Maedhros pressed his lips to random places upon his cousin's face, arms wrapping round his waist, and Fingon simply lay in the curve of his body, letting the light shining through the leaves of the trees play about his face, and the soft sounds of the forest lull them both to sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love feedback, please leave some, I'll be ever so grateful.


	4. The Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Handjobs. And a cameo plot appearance since my muse is no longer horny.

Maedhros stood in the doorway of Fingon's chambers, unseen, watching his cousin play upon his harp. Fingon's fingers moved skillfully, and Maedhros followed them across the strings of the harp.

 

Fingon was so very talented, so very beautiful. And he was  _Maedhros's._  
  
  
  
A flame of bright love kindled in Maedhros's chest as he watched his cousin. It was inevitable, had been inevitable, this union of theirs, since the day he had first laid eyes on his cousin. 

Fingon had been a child then, but Maedhros instantly loved him. And now, both of them grown, he loved him in another way. Maedhros knew many things could be found wrong by others, with the relationship he and Fingon shared, but he cared not.  
  
  
  
Fingon began to sing, a high, sweet note, that rose in octave. Maedhros closed his eyes, drinking in the sound, the vibrations of his cousin's voice.  
  
  
Fingon sang higher and higher, and the very sound beckoned Maedhros. He came forward silently behind Fingon, pressing himself against his cousin's back, arms going about Fingon's trim waist. 

 

 

"Findekano," Maedhros purred into Fingon's ear, inhaling the gasp from Fingon's mouth, "You sing so wonderfully."

 

 

"Maitimo!" Fingon squeaked, clutching the harp to his chest.

 

Maedhros laughed, a light, airy chuckle, and Fingon's heart stirred at the sound.

 

"Finno, Finno," Maedhros trilled, "My beautiful Finno."  Color spread on Fingon's cheekbones, lip pressed under white teeth.  
  
  
"Maitimo, why have you come? My father is holding a feast tonight, Uncle Curufinwe will be furious if you are known to be here..."  
  
  
  
"No one will know." Maedhros assured. "I merely wished to hear first the song you will sing at the feast."   
  
  
"Oh, yes, Maitimo!" Fingon agreed eagerly, repositioning his harp within his hands, and making to move away from Maedhros's hold.  
  
  
Maedhros held Fingon fast, not releasing in the slightest the grip on his cousin, his hands traveling below Fingon's belly, fingers tugging at the laces of Fingon's trousers.

 "Maitimo!" Fingon protested, writhing against his cousin. Ever since the day Fingon had been made to take Maedhros in his mouth, Maedhros's want for him seemed to never be sated.  
  
  
"Sing, sing, dearest." Maedhros purred, hand slipping past the loosened laces, down between Fingon's thighs.

 

"Maitimo, I cannot play or sing like this." Fingon pouted, but was interrupted, by Maedhros's well formed fingers curling around his cock.

  
Fingon jolted at the touch, a fast and sharp shred of arousal shooting up his belly. Maedhros's fingers glided with the smoothest touch over his cousin's slowly growing arousal.  
  
  
  
Fingon wriggled against him, a ploy to get away, and Maedhros laughed, his cousin was delightful when he acted so coy.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Sing," he urged, teeth catching the tip of Fingon's ear between them.

 

Fingon glared at him over one slim shoulder, but conceded, his voice raising high, though he immediately stuttered out, as Maedhros's fingers weaved a dance over his slim cock. 

"Maitimo, stop." Fingon breathed, voice coming short.  
  
  
"Stop what?" Maedhros inquired teasingly, fingers applying quick, rough strokes along the length of Fingon's arousal. Fingon nearly moaned, yet caught the sound betwixt his lips, color flooding again his face.

 

In desperation, to hide the pleasure his cousin was coaxing forth, Fingon began to sing again, though each note was punctuated by gasps as Maedhros's ministrations quickened.  
  
  
"Sing, sing, Finno." Maedhros said, his tonuge trailing wet and hot on the curve of Fingon's throat, his thumb pressing to the tip of Fingon's arousal,  moistened with the liquid that beaded there.

 

"Maitimo!" Fingon gasped, his hips rocking of their own accord, desperately wanting the pleasure Maedhros's hand gave. Maedhros's obliged, palming at Fingon's arousal, calling forth more liquid, and a sweet gasp of pleasure, that was repeated in time with Maedhros's fingers.  
  
  
"Ah, yes." Maedhros smirked, delighted at the sound. "Now you are singing, Finno."

 

The heat on Fingon's cheeks grew, and Maedhros's fingers kept up a steady rhythm, teeth returning to Fingon's ear, nibbling along its delicate shell.  
  
  
Maedhros's thumb found the tip of Fingon's arousal once more, and Fingon's thighs quaked, seed spilling out onto Maedhros's hand.

"Maitimo!" Fingon cried, falling limp against his cousin. Maedhros took Fingon in his arms, lifting him and easing him down upon his back against the cushions of his bed.  
  
  
  
Fingon lay splayed out against them, legs spread, his body trembling.  
  
  
Maedhros wiped the seed from his cousin's skin with a silk cloth procured from inside his robe, then gently lay upon his belly between Fingon's spread legs, lacing up velvet trousers, then lifting Fingon's tunic up, and planting his lips upon the soft skin of Fingon's belly.   
  
  
Fingon stirred, his legs lifting and bracketing Maedhros between them, one slim hand resting upon his cousin's hair.

 

Maedhros lips stayed upon Fingon's belly, gently kissing and biting in intervals, and Fingon rested his head upon a cushion, lifting his harp to stand on his chest, fingers calling forth a song from its strings.  
  
  
Sweetly, he began to sing, voice warbling a lovely tune.  Pillowing his head upon Fingon's belly, Maedhros listened, eyes falling closed.

Their simple reverie was interrupted suddenly, by a rap upon the door. 

  
"Findekano," came a voice from behind the door, "The feast starts, father requests your presence."

 

Fingon leapt from the bed, harp left on the cushions, hands flying over his tunic and hair, smoothing them down. Maedhros laughed, moving himself upward to lay where Fingon had just reclined.

 

Fingon shot him a petulant glare, snatching a silver circlet from the nearby table, and adorning the dark crown of his head with it, before retrieving his harp. 

 

"Enjoy the feast, Finno." Maedhros mumbled bemusedly. 

"Maitimo...you cannot stay here." Fingon said. "If you are discovered, in my bed..."

  
"Everyone will be attending Uncle Nolofinwe's feast." Maedhros countered. "No one will be here to enter your chambers, so, I will remain here, and I'll have a feast for myself once you return." 

Color rushed to Fingon's cheeks.  
  
  
"Maitimo!" he chastised. Maedhros laughed once again, turning his face into the cushions.

 

 

Fingon left his chambers, shutting the door behind him, and did not return for many hours, making his way with his siblings, to the great hall in his father's palace.

He sat at Fingolfin's right hand, and played his harp for the gathered assembly, eyes roving over the crowd from beneath lowered lashes, noting a face, several faces, that stared out intently at him from the crowd.   
  
  
Fingolfin leaned in at the end of Fingon's song, and whispered to his eldest child, nodding in direction of the staring faces. Fingon's eyes widened, his heart pounding furiously in his chest, thoughts running furiously in his mind.

 _No, father...no...Maitimo...no...I cannot, you must not, father...Maitimo...no, please..._  
  
  
But thoughts were only thoughts, not spoken words, and the feast continued, heedless of his distress.

 

 

Maedhros slept, and slept, Fingon's voice running like a smooth stream through his dreams. But Fingon's voice grew louder and louder, and no longer calm and smooth, but panicked and high. 

"Maitimo! Maitimo!" Fingon wailed, hands desperately shaking his cousin. Maedhros lurched out of sleep, called by Fingon's voice. Grasping Fingon's hands, he tumbled Fingon down upon the bed, his body shifting atop his cousin's, lips going to Fingon's neck.  
  
  
"So good of you to bring me dessert, Finno." he whispered against fair skin.

"Maitimo, stop!" Fingon sobbed, body drawing taught beneath Maedhros. "Let me speak, I will let you bed me afterwards, without resistance, but please, listen..."

Maedhros's eyes narrowed at the pitiful plea.  
  
  
  
"Findekano." he hissed, anger seeping into his words, "What ails you?"

 

Fingon's teeth ground the delicate skin off his lower lip, eyes refilling with glistening tears.

 

"My father...has allowed suitors for me into court." Fingon sobbed his answer.  
  
  
  
"That is nothing to weep over." Maedhros snapped, a hint of jealousy yet fueling his words.

"I am expected to choose one!" Fingon cried out. "My father has so ordered! The relations between the peoples must be kept strong by a union."

 

Maedhros growled out a frightful curse between clenched teeth, and Fingon sobbed ceaselessly under him, words failing, then coming again.  
  
  
  
"Maitimo, I cannot choose...you I have already chosen...and even should I be made to choose, I am no longer innocent, my father would be shamed for giving spoiled goods..."   
  
  
  
"You are not goods to be bartered and sold, Finno." Maedhros spat venomously. "Uncle Nolofinwe can allow the suitors to bed him themselves, if he wishes to keep strong the peace."  
  
  
"Do not say such things!" Fingon cried, drawing a flash of anger from Maedhros's eyes. "You...you may put yourself inside me." Fingon continued hastily, seeking to placate Maedhros's wrath.   
  
  
  
"No, no." Maedhros declined, breathing out a sigh, easing himself off of Fingon and laying against his cousin's side, pulling Fingon close along his form, letting stray kisses drop upon Fingon's tear stained face.

 

"I know not what to do." Fingon wept, and Maedhros had no words to offer in response.  
  
  
Fingon slept after much expression of misery, and Maedhros dried every tear upon his face, before following his cousin into sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love feedback, and it gives me much incentive to write. So please leave some, and thanks in advance.


	5. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kissing, and plot. My muse is stepping in the shower and turning on the cold water.

Maedhros crouched upon the railings of Fingon's wide balcony with impeccable balance, staring out upon the heads of the trees below. 

 

Fingon still slept within, and but Maedhros had woken before his cousin, and had come out to remunerate upon Fingon's words. 

  
Fingon had been feasting with his family, but had returned to Maedhros in distress, bringing news that Fingon's father had ordered him to find a spouse. 

The very thought of such a thing rankled Maedhros. Fingon was his, _his_. Maedhros respected Nolofinwe, but for his uncle to suggest such a thing was as wrong as it ever could be, despite the fact that he knew nothing of his nephew and son's relationship.  
  
  
Maedhros had chosen Fingon since childhood, loved Fingon, bedded Fingon. And Fingon returned his long founded love and choice. 

 

  
They were spouses, in all but name now.  
  
  
  
Maedhros stretched out on the wide balcony, a soft wind blowing coppery strands of his hair around his face. Whatever intentions or plans Nolofinwe had for his son, must be prevented.

 

 

Maedhros cast a glance over his shoulder, at Fingon's sleeping form. Fingon stirred gently, his hand reaching out, seeking the departed warmth of Maedhros.

Maedhros lips lifted in a smile, and he left the balcony, returning to the bed and laying beside his cousin. Fingon molded to his side, a sweet sigh leaving his lips. Maedhros took one of Fingon's plaits, wrapping it about his finger, and relishing in the simple contact his cousin gave.   

   
Maedhros had noted that Fingon had been reluctant from the start to be bedded by him, though Maedhros could not understand why. Maedhros understood that those who loved one another in such a way as he and Fingon so did, their bodies they shared.  
  
  
He had seen such between his father and mother, his parents often used their forges or workshops for creating things other than gems or fine art. Indeed, Maedhros knew more about the Ambarussa's conception than he deemed necessary to know.   
  
  
So Fingon's reluctance he accredited to his cousin's natural shyness. Dropping a kiss upon Fingon's brow, Maedhros closed his eyes, outwardly the very appearance of calm, though thoughts flitted madly beneath peaceful demeanor.    

  
  
Fingon must be kept away from any potential suitors, so advances upon him could not be made.

  
Maedhros was a jealous elf, as was his father he had inherited such jealousy from, neither could or would stand any undue favor being shown to their beloved.

 

The easiest way to thwart suitors would be to remove Fingon from Nolofinwe's court, but Maedhros knew Fingon would be adverse to such a course of action. Yet, what did that matter, when so much was at stake? 

   
  
Maedhros pulled Fingon even closer, finger hooking around the black and gold plait he held.  
  
  
It would not be providential to ask counsel of his father, Feanor had a marked distaste for his half brothers, and though he bore no particular ill will towards their children, the idea of a union between them and a child of his would not be a welcome prospect to him. 

Maedhros's mother preferred not to involve herself in the feuding between her husband and her brother in laws, so no advice would be forthcoming from her.

 

 

Therefore, Maedhros had only one recourse left, a thing provided to him by his parents. His brothers.

 

Surely, they could devise a plan to thwart this newfound trouble of his. Content in his choice, Maedhros let sleep take him, the scent of Fingon's hair like the finest incense to his nose.   
  
   
  
  
Maedhros woke time later, to find Fingon awake at his side, looking down at him. Concern weighted his cousin's forehead, and his teeth steadily worked at his lip.   
  
  
"Maitimo." Fingon greeted.  
  
  
  
"Finno." Maedhros responded, his right hand moving upward, cupping Fingon's smooth cheek. Fingon's slim hand lifted and covered his own.

 

"How do you fare?" Maedhros questioned softly.

 

 

"I am worried..." Fingon admitted. "I cannot accept a spouse, Maitimo, you know this."  
  
  
  
"I know." Maedhros responded.

 

"Then what shall we do? I cannot refuse my father's order." Fingon said.

Maedhros's fingers scraped the side of Fingon's cheek, eyes darkening.   
  
  
"You will have to refuse. Do you wish us to be parted?" Maedhros queried.   
  
  
  
"No! No!" Fingon hastily denied, eyes widening from the fear of such a prospect.

"Then," began Maedhros more gently, "You will need to leave your father's court." To his interest, Fingon began to laugh. 

 

  
"Maitimo, you jest." Fingon said between bouts of soft laughter.

  
  
"I do not jest," Maedhros clarified, not understanding Fingon's amusement. Fingon sobered at his words. 

 

  
  
"Maitimo, I cannot leave my father's court, where then would I go? Uncle Arafinwe would only take me back to my father f I sought refuge with him."  
  
  
"Finno, you must leave. Your suitors will be at court, you cannot escape from them there." Maedhros reasoned.

  
  
Fingon laughed yet again, a leftover trill of amusement.

 

"Maitimo, you are overreacting." Fingon decided, shaking his head in fond exasperation and sitting up, pushing the silken coverlets that had encased him during sleep, from his body. Maedhros reached out and grasped his arm, pulling Fingon down, over his chest, bringing them face to face with one another.

 

Fingon instantly deduced Maedhros's intent, and lowered his head, brushing his lips against Maedhros's to forestall any action upon Maedhros's part.  
  
  
"Maitimo, do not concern yourself so." he entreated against his cousin's lips. "I will find a way to evade this, I assure you."  
  
  
Maedhros's hand came upward, seizing the hair upon the back of Fingon's head, holding Fingon in place as he attacked his cousin's lips. Soft cries and muffled sounds, sharp, and high, were drawn from Fingon, Fingon's own hands rising to splay over Maedhros's chest, color bleeding onto his fair skin.

 

 

Maedhros withdrew when he deemed that he had his fill, leaving Fingon's lips swollen and red, his face aflame. Fingon's slim fingers curled, and uncurled just so upon Maedhros's chest, tonuge peeking out to probe at his ravaged lips.   
  
  
  
Maedhros's eyes tracked Fingon's every move with an appraising glance, the first stirrings of warmth sparking low in his belly. Grasping the back of Fingon's velvet tunic, a feast garment Fingon had failed to remove before sleeping, Maedhros hauled Fingon atop him, letting his cousin's weight settle warm and soft along the panes of his body.

 

 

Fingon lat stiff atop Maedhros, unsure of what to make of his present vantage point. Maedhros felt the rigidness of his cousin's form, and dragged his hand down, though gently, through Fingon's dark plaits, offering Fingon a charming smile.  
  
  
  
"Make yourself comfortable, Finno." Maedhros murmured, and was gratified to feel Fingon's body marginally relax.

 

 

Ever so slowly, Maedhros's knee rose, slyly sliding between Fingon's legs, which lay opened to either side of Maedhros's.

 

Too late Fingon felt the invader, and made to close his legs, but was prevented by Maedhros's knee standing stalwart between them.

 

"Maitimo.." Fingon began. Maedhros's head lifted, lips pressing to the base of Fingon's throat, suckling on the skin there.

A soft sigh escaped Fingon's lips at the wet, pleasant feeling of Maedhros's mouth. 

 

"Maitimo." he said again, though the word was borne out upon a low moan. Maedhros's teeth closed suddenly about a bit of flesh, and Fingon cried out, residual pleasure mixing with pain.  
  
  
  
A smart, defined knock echoed out against the door of Fingon's chambers, a voice calling from behind it.

 

 

"Findekano, you are late for the First meal. Father wishes for you to attend." said the voice. Fingon squeaked in alarm, hurriedly rising from atop Maedhros.

 

 

Maedhros laughed, watching as Fingon exchanged his velvet feast tunic of sky blue for a thinner one of shimmering sliver cloth.   
  
  
  
Fingon muttered a mild, but insulting imprecation under his breath at his cousin, and darted to the door of his chamber, slipping out without a backwards glance. 

Maedhros sprang from the bed when Fingon's figure disappeared behind the carved door, and he went to the balcony, leaping over it and taking his leave.

 

When Maedhros returned to his family's own palace, his brothers were waiting for him, in the large chamber designated for meals, finishing the remains of theirs.

 

Maedhros walked to the end of the long table, bestowing kisses upon the Ambarussa's heads as he passed them, and took his place beside Maglor at the table, ferreting a slice of fruit from his brother's abandoned plate. Maglor gave no indication he had noticed his eldest brother's arrival, attention occupied by the harp he was ever so carefully stringing with silver wire.

In opposition to Maglor, Celegorm and Curufin regarded Maedhros keenly.

  
  
"Where were you, Timo'? Celegorm inquired, his question sounding earnest, though it was asked by rote, as there was no need for it, Maedhros's brothers all knew well where Maedhros preferred to spend his time.  "Mother was searching for you." 

 

 

"Where do you think I would be?" Maedhros retorted, leaning across the table to accost a roll of meat from Caranthir, who rewarded him with a slap upon his arm.  
  
  
Celegorm gave up his pretense of questioning.

 

 

"So, how does our lovely cousin fare?" Celegorm asked instead. Maedhros's face twisted.

 

 

"He would fare better, if Uncle Nolofinwe had not ordered him to take a spouse." Maedhros replied.

 

Celegorm's low whistle was the only sound uttered for moments after Maedhros's declaration. The brothers all knew the nature of Maedhros's and Fingon's relationship, though, it was not knowledge they flaunted.

That Fingolfin had ordered Fingon to take a spouse, meant a danger of the sundering of Maedhros's claim he placed on Fingon. Which was a thing Maedhros would not relinquish. 

 

 

Celegorm, naturally, was the first to speak.

 

"What then will you do?" Celegorm requested.    
  
  
  
"I admit to be at a loss." Maedhros said. "Though, one thing is certain, Fingon cannot remain at our uncle's court, or he will be pressured into betrothal. But, he does not wish to leave, nor will any harbor him if he does."  
  
  
"That matters not." Maglor interjected, turning every eye to him, though he did not look up once from his task. "Findekano can be brought here, and harbored here."  
  
  
"Father will not be pleased by such, not to mention Uncle Nolofinwe." objected Maedhros.

  
"Would it please you to see Findekano in another's arms?" Maglor shot back, fingers pinching the wire he had strung moments before, eliciting a sharp, ominous note from his partially deconstructed harp.  

Maedhros glared at his brother, arms folding over his chest, lips tight at that image of possibility. 

 

No, such would not please him.

  
  
  
 

  
  
  
  
  
 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave feedback please, I love it, and would be ever so grateful for it. Thanks to those who have left some.


	6. The Suitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not much sex, but there is lots of plot, and fillerish content in here. Though there is rough, sexy stuff at the end, with promise of more to come.

Fingon set his jeweled goblet down with a delicate hand, the clear spring wine it contained rippling gently within. His eyes flitted to his father, seated at the head of the table, then darted away.

Fingolfin's gaze swept to him moments later.   
  
  
"Findekano." Fingolfin said.

"Yes, Father?" Fingon instantly replied, impaling with a loose flick of his wrist a morsel of food from his plate, in an effort to distinguish his words as casually spoken.  
  
  
  
"There is someone who wishes to see you."

 

Fingon ferried the morsel to his mouth, making a show of savoring it.  
  
  
"Who wishes to see me, father?" he queried, only after he had consumed the pithy amount of food.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"King Ingwe wishes to make better his acquaintance with you." Fingolfin said, raising his goblet to his lips. 

 

 

Fingon blinked in shock.

 

"King Ingwe?" he repeated haltingly. "What would he want with me?"

 

 "Some members of the delegation he sent to the feast have been most interested in you, they brought to me the message that King Ingwe wishes to see the one who one day, could be a part of his own." Fingolfin expounded, each word, though innocent sounding, laced with dual meaning.  
  
  
  
  
  
Fingon paled, the color high upon his cheeks bleeding away.   
  
  
  
"I...I am honored." Fingon only said, the fear welling inside him artfully encapsulated by his subservient reply.  
  
  
  
  
Fingolfin offered Fingon a warm smile, pleased by his son's deference. Fingon concluded his meal in silence, rising as soon as courtesy, and familial suspicions would permit, and fled.

Fingon went to his chambers, in search of Maedhros, but they were empty, the bed cold. Straightening the rumpled sheets and smoothing them over the mattress, Fingon took a light circlet of gold from the case of crumpled velvet where he kept such adornments, and donned it, then once more left his chambers.

 

 

He left the palace, slipping out a rarely used door into the gardens surrounding it. His father and mother favored gardens, and it was said that the gardens of Fingolfin's palace came near in beauty as those of Vana's. They were landscapes of smooth, tall trees and rustling, flowering bushes, and the fountains Turgon favored so, bubbled merrily upon the shaded swards of grass.   
  
  
  
Fingon walked among the trees and bushes, drinking ever so often from the clear water of the fountains, savoring the acute loneliness that he had found to have to taken his hand.  
  
  
Fingon had no mind for company, his mind was too heavy, thoughts too addled, and the dull phantom of moisture of Maedhros's lips he felt still in the hollow of his throat.  
  
  
  
Eru looked upon him with no favor, for, soon thereafter, came to Fingon's ears the sound of footsteps, the tread of one who wishes to make themselves known.      
  
  
  
A figure materialized from between a pair of saplings, tall, wide of shoulder and fair of face, russet hair stirring in the gentle breeze, stepping directly into Fingon's path. Fingon had no choice but to approach the figure. And so he did, molding an expression of greeting onto his face.

The figure offered a smile in return, extending a hand in greeting, then pressing it to their chest, Fingon echoed the action, and a voice issued forth from the figure's lips.

 

  
"Forgive me, but are you not the son of the prince?" came the question, ever so politely spoken. 

 

 

"I am." Fingon replied shortly, though in tones of utmost politeness. The clasp upon the figure's light cloak heralded them to be of King Ingwe's household, doubtless of the same delegation his father had mentioned at first meal. It would not do to spurn such a one as this, no matter his own preferences.  
  
  
  
"Am I then speaking to Lord Findekano?" was the next question, presented upon tones of perfectly balanced curiosity and hope. A smile, not so falsified anymore, curved Fingon's lips.  
  
  
"You are speaking to Lord Findekano." Fingon said. The figure's fair face brightened, mien accentuated by wisps of silky russet hair.     
  
  
"Will you permit me to walk with you?" the figure began, a shadow of hesitance crossed Fingon's face, and the figure made haste to continue. "Forgive me for being so bold, but your performance at your father's feast was a thing of great beauty, and I only wish to offer my praise."  
  
  
  
  
A bud of delight unfurled within Fingon's chest. Not many, only Maedhros, and few others would yet compliment him upon his skills upon the harp and of song, to give him due praise might be construed as flattery, given his place as an heir of the king, and not many wished to be accused of such.

 

Though Fingon craved not praise, to be given praise freely was a thing he did not wish to refuse.

"You may walk with me." he allowed graciously. "What is your name?"

 

 

"Erhadril." Erhadril replied, smiling sweetly at Fingon's sudden interest.

 

 

Fingon gave answering smile, the third since meeting Erhadril, and they walked on together.  
  
  
  
  
  


Maedhros strode through he gardens surrounding Fingolfin's palace, heedless of the beauty to either side of him. He had not come to ogle at the affected beauty of his uncle's famed gardens, but rather to ogle at the beauty of his uncle's son.  
  
  
  
Maedhros had eaten, then had returned to Fingolfin's dwelling, spurred to haste by the image Maglor had planted, desiring to find Fingon before anything he considered untoward happened against him.  
  
  
And when he found Fingon, his elective was simple, take Fingon, and return to his home.   
  
  
  
  
Fingon had not been in his chambers, where Maedhros had hoped to find him. So, therefore, Maedhros had went in search throughout the gardens, knowing Fingon's propensity for them.  
  
  
And he found what he  sought, and something he had not.  
  
  
Laughter came to his ears, pleased and joyful, and unmistakably Fingon's. Maedhros had heard such laughter before, had drawn it from Fingon's lips. But, he could not reconcile this laughter with the agitated and fearful mien Fingon had displayed since the feast.

Perhaps Fingon had taken a mind to share time with one of his siblings, and so they laughed together. Maedhros understood the need to give time to the younger ones of his family, and he loved Fingon all the more for possessing the same need.  
  
  
  
Leaning against a tree, Maedhros prepared to wait til Fingon was alone. He had not the skill of Celegorm, to follow prey, with soundless steps and invisible body, or he would have pursued Fingon unseen throughout the gardens.  
  
  
  
Another laugh came floating through the air to his ears, and Maedhros's body went rigid. This laughter was not the laughter of Fingon, nor the laughter of Turgon, nor any of Fingon's siblings. It was foreign, and sweet, and its very sound was abrasive.

 

 

Fingon was with someone who not of his family.

  
Maedhros abandoned the tree he leaned upon, and sped through the gardens, all poise of relaxation gone, he burst through a grove of saplings, each only barely taller than him, and came upon a scene that made his chest clench in painful feeling.

Fingon was seated upon the wide edge of a bowl of a fountain, eyes fixated on the figure who sat beside him. The figure held one of Fingon's hands, and was whispering some endearment that made Fingon color, and laugh in delight.  
  
  
  
"...Truly, when my father suggested that I consider you, I feared you would be haughty, and uninterested in the ways of common life." the figure was saying, and Maedhros derived meaning from their words. This then was a suitor, who had come to charm Fingon, and from the expression of rapt attention on Fingon's face, was succeeding.

Anger welled within Maedhros, burning and tearing.  

 

 

How could could Fingon _allow_ this?  Fingon had himself professed to being adverse to any suitor who might come seeking his hand, so why now did he seem so enamored with one that sat beside him?

 

Though, in truth, perhaps he interest was falsified, to avoid diplomatic incident, despite that likely occurrence, Maedhros still had no wish to see Fingon so close with another .  

 

  
  
  
He came forward from the grove of saplings, walking with perfect posture to the fountain where Fingon was seated, though every muscle was tight with repressed anger.  
  
  
  
  
He was greeted by two pairs of surprised eyes, Maedhros let a smile take his lips for Fingon's eyes, and let it fade for the eyes of the stranger.    


"Findekano." Maedhros inquired in calm tones, "I wish to speak with you about a matter of importance."  
  
  
  
Fingon's eyes flitted to the stranger at his side, then came to rest upon Maedhros's once more, though the words he then spoke were directed not at Maedhros, but at the stranger.

 

   
"Erhadril, forgive me, I must be going." Erhadril pressed a hand over the hand of Fingon that rested in his grasp.  
  
  
  
"I have taken no offense, What the Prince wishes to speak is doubtless of importance." Erhadril replied graciously, and stood, gently releasing Fingon's hand and delivering a sweeping bow.   


Fingon smiled at this display, and Erhadril readily smiled back, then smoothly skimmed away, disappearing behind a copse of trees.  


As soon as Erhadril's tall figure was concealed by the shrubbery, Maedhros allowed his anger freedom. 

 

"Findekano, who was that?" he hissed, eyes gleaming in veiled jealously.

  
Fingon rose from his seat, noting the look in Maedhros's eyes, and the tone of his voice, and desiring space between himself and his incensed cousin.

 

"It was merely a lord from King Ingwe's court, Maitimo. He only wished to offer praise upon my performance at the feast."   

 

"Do not give you enough praise?" Maedhros questioned icily.  
  
  
  
"Maitimo..." Fingon sighed, realizing the jealously in Maedhros's cold tone. "He meant no harm."  
  
  
"He means to have you!" Maedhros snapped, anger rapidly escalating. "He is a suitor, or else you are blind to not see such."  
  
  
  
"I know such." Fingon replied evenly.   
  
  
"Then why do you not spurn his advances?"  Maedhros demanded, advancing himself upon Fingon. Fingon gave way before his cousin, feet traveling him backwards.  


"Maitimo...I...you must know that I cannot simply spurn him, it would be great offense to King Ingwe." Fingon offered.   
  
  
  
"I care not." Maedhros growled, his long legs in two strides taking him to his cousin. He grasped Fingon's arms, yanking Fingon against his chest, his lips meeting perfectly with Fingon's.  
  
  
  
Fingon gave out a muffled cry of sharp pain as Maedhros's teeth closed over his bottom lip, drawing blood immediately with their force. Maedhros moaned at the taste of the sweet blood welling, and in a pointed moved, thrust his tonuge into Fingon's mouth, his arm wrapping in a crushing embrace about Fingon's waist.  
  
  
  
Fingon wailed through the fierce kiss, his knees buckling from the numbing force applied about his waist.   


Maedhros's other hand had been engaged between their bodies, working to open the clasps of Fingon's silver tunic. The last clasp parted as Maedhros withdrew his lips from Fingon's, and Fingon stood before him, mouth swollen, colored with blood, chest bare, tunic hanging in disarray from his shoulders. 

 

 

Maedhros had truly never seen a thing so beautiful.

  
  
With measured force, Maedhros knocked Fingon's feet from underneath him, catching Fingon's arms, and easing Fingon to the grassy floor. He settled atop his cousin, deliberately astride Fingon's belly, so Fingon might feel his growing arousal.

 

"You are _mine_ , Finno." Maedhros growled, before bending over his cousin's body, and savagely, taking Fingon's lips again, his hands curling about Fingon's wrists, pressing them to the ground.   


Fingon thrashed, though fruitlessly, for Maedhros's body remained heavy, and hot above him.   
  
  
  
Far behind the two, though not yet far enough to prevent sight and hearing, Erhadril watched, eyes narrowed in concentration, taking in every detail.    

 

 

 

 

 

  
  
 

**Author's Note:**

> I thrive on feedback, so please leave some feedback on this, I'll be very grateful.


End file.
